Greater Love
by Baron Munchausen
Summary: A ghost story which is a gift to all you wonderful readers for Hallowe'en 2019.


_**Happy All Hallow's Eve everyone! Sometime ago I mentioned that I had written a story for Hallowe'en, and another for the centenary of the end of the First World War. Well, I merged them and this is the product.**_

_**I'd like to dedicate it to Ladies Spotted Horse and Tarlea in grateful thanks for all their support and friendship.**_

* * *

.

On Edith's first day as a trainee teacher on placement, she found herself at a private school called Locksley outside of Ripon. Mrs Dean, the headmistress, showed her round the rather lovely old mansion that housed all the classrooms. The dormitories were in the renovated stables.

After seeing where Edith would work, teaching history to the juniors, Mrs Dean walked her round to look at the grounds, passing as they did so, a simple monument placed on one of the walls of the house.

**_Major Sir Anthony Strallan, Bart., DSO, MA (Cantab)_**

**_2__nd__ Battalion, Intelligence Corps_**

**_17__th__ September 1874—11__th__ November 1918_**

**_GREATER LOVE HATH NO MAN THAN THIS:_**

**_THAT A MAN LAY DOWN HIS LIFE FOR HIS FRIENDS_**

"It's a plain monument, but strangely noble and moving. Who was he?" Edith asked.

"He was the last private owner of the house and estate. He left it to the school in his will as he had no family. Our first Chairman of Governors thought we should acknowledge him and placed the monument here" Mrs Dean answered. "Now, come and see the Library, and then I'll show you to your room. You can settle in before you start teaching tomorrow."

Everything was fine. Not amazing, but fine. Before getting ready for bed, Edith slipped outside for a breath of air and some solitude. Already she was finding life in a boarding school rather too crowded for her comfort. Everyone lived on top of each other. She could hear all the sounds from the rooms either side of hers, and they would've been able to hear everything she did too, if she wasn't such a very quiet person. Her sister, Sybil, often fondly referred to her as 'mouse'.

The monument caught her attention again. _Poor Sir Anthony_ she thought, _with no family, no one to wait for him, no one to leave anything to._ He must have been a brave man because he had won a DSO, and he was a clever man to work in Intelligence. But what really hit Edith in the guts was the date of his death: 11th November 1918.

The very last day of The Great War.

_What a tragedy to get all the way through more than four years of war only to die on the last morning of hostilities_. She lingered, contemplating the monument and the man it was dedicated to. Then the evening chill crept over her and she shivered. As she turned to go in, she thought she saw something move amongst the trees at the edge of the lawns. _Deer perhaps? _she thought turning away, and her thoughts also turned to her first teaching day. She went inside, and the shadow emerged from behind the tree once more, watching the house.

* * *

.

The next day Edith attended assembly and was introduced to the whole school. She felt watched, examined, and judged, _but that's children for you_, she thought. Her first class went reasonably well, and the second went better, and she thanked her stars that she had chosen to teach five– to eleven–year–olds. They asked strange questions sometimes, but she could deal with that and it often opened up good opportunities for teaching and discussion. Best of all, they weren't often given to openly rebel, thank heavens.

She had lunch in the Refectory with all the other staff. The older lady sat next to her introduced herself.

"Miss Godwin, mathematics."

"Pleased to meet you, Miss Godwin. I'm Miss Crawley, history..."

"Yes. I know who you are. Mrs Dean was most emphatic that we should refer to you as _Miss _Crawley, despite pointing out with unnecessary stress that you were the daughter of an Earl."

While speaking she cut up her pork chop with excessive force.

"Er...well, it felt the most appropriate...I mean..."

"_Did it?_" Miss Godwin skewered Edith with her eyes. At least that was what it felt like to Edith. She'd been worried about how to keep order in a classful of children. It had never occurred to her that other teachers might be hostile. _But isn't that just my luck! But whatever Miss Godwin's problem is...prejudice against the aristocracy or whatever...I just have to keep out of her way._

But of course, it would never be that simple for Lady Edith Crawley, magnet to all the bad luck in the world. Her elder sister had all the academic and business success. Mary now ran her own investment company in the City with her husband, Matthew. She made millions, and bankrolled Downton, their father's estate, as she reminded everyone in the family regularly. Her younger sister had all the creative talent. Sybil was a freelance artist producing amazing, provocative political works...and she was lucky in love. She had met a young Irishman who had been a fellow student at art school and ever since the two had had an almost spiritual bond; they were complete soulmates.

Edith had always loved history, and had wanted to teach the subject since childhood. So, despite her family's expectations that she would, _of course_, become a university professor at one of the older, major institutions, and their virulent disappointment and disapproval that she hadn't, that she had ended up as a schoolteacher, meant she was a failure in everyone's eyes, including her own.

Edith took a shower after dinner, hoping to have an early night after her first full day's teaching. She was just unlocking the door to her room when the door next to hers opened and Miss Godwin emerged.

"Miss Godwin" Edith all but squeaked.

"Yes?" The terse reply was thrown at Edith.

"I'm...sorry. I didn't realise we were neighbours."

"Oh, I had, don't you worry." She sneered, looking Edith up and down. "What a strange time to have a shower. Are you scrubbing the Great Unwashed off before bed?"

She disappeared down the corridor before Edith could even think of a response, but she kept the tears under control until she had got inside the privacy of her own room.

* * *

.

The next day's teaching felt a little better. Gradually, over the next few days and weeks, Edith began to learn the practical lessons all teachers discover when they begin to do it "for real". She became more adept at judging the capabilities of individual students and each class as a whole, and even better at assessing the dynamics in particular groups of children. As she grew more confident she relaxed and, for the first time in her life, felt a sense of self-worth. She avoided Miss Godwin in the Refectory, around the residences, and the school at large, giving her no more excuses for insults.

The more Edith found peace in her life, and excitement in her calling, the more she felt she wanted to know the history of the school's buildings and the man who had lived there before it became a school. It was an immediate way to teach a sense of history and place, she told herself, something concrete for the children to grasp. So, in her fourth week at Locksley, she made her way to the local history centre at the library in Ripon. The archivist was friendly and knowledgeable and eager to share facts of local importance with Edith.

What she found among the papers preserved there shocked her. There was no way she could include this story in her lessons for under elevens; it was too distressing. Despite not being able to use the information in her classes, she was glad she had uncovered it. When she got back to Locksley she walked round to the monument. She stood there for a long time, what she had just learned echoing in her head.

"You poor, _brave_ man" she whispered.

She heard someone sigh behind her. She turned round quickly, but there was nothing there.

* * *

.

For Locksley, as a Church of England school situated in the middle of farm-dominated Yorkshire, Harvest Festival was A Big Thing. As well as helping out with planning and rehearsing the actual service, Edith had designed a set of lessons around the changes to farming methods and mechanisation either side of the First World War. She even included some of what she had learned about Sir Anthony who was a very forward-thinking landlord for his time. As she put her lesson plans together it gave her some satisfaction to bring some of the man's achievements to the attention of the children who had benefited so much from the baronet's generosity.

.

The Harvest Festival service itself went off very well. Edith stayed well away from Miss Godwin and her part of the ceremony, and made sure that all her own attention was focussed on the children. She was especially pleased that her small section on the history of farming in and around Locksley had been presented by her class so clearly. After such a lot of activity and organisation over the last two weeks, Edith was exhausted once it was all over. It had been the first major festival she had helped arrange, and she had been worried about it. Getting back to her room once dinner was over, all she wished for was to sleep, wishes that were abruptly crushed by the sight of the second forms' homework on her desk that she had promised to return to them the next day, and which she had totally forgotten.

Sighing, she made herself a cup of coffee and settled down to several hours of marking before she could even think about going to bed.

At half past ten she heard Miss Godwin come back to her room. Edith was quiet as a rule anyway, but she made sure she was even quieter once her neighbour had retired to bed. There was no point in antagonising her. Unfortunately, that meant no more boiling of kettles and hence no more coffee.

The next two sets of homework were almost illegible, and it took Edith a lot of patient work to get any sense from the smudged handwriting. She sighed again, something she had done far too much that evening, and thought what her family would think of her now, sitting up all hours of the night marking seven-year-olds' manuscripts with the same seriousness as she would if she were reading PhD theses, and frightened to death by the disapproval of the middle-aged and embittered mathematics mistress next door.

This was not what she had wanted for her life, not really. She just wanted to share with other people the wonder of understanding history, of how things came to be as they are. She didn't want to upset anyone. Why were there so many people in the world who wanted to see her fail, people who enjoyed seeing her fail? What had she ever done to deserve that?

She began to cry...as quietly as she could, of course.

There was a hint of movement next to her.

She looked down in terror at the linen handkerchief that now lay on her desk. It was not hers.

"Please don't cry, and please don't be afraid" whispered a voice behind her. It was such a nice voice, deep and resonant and _kind_.

She turned slowly. There was a man, a _very tall, very handsome man_ standing next to her bed. Even through her short breaths and panic, she registered that there was something wrong with his clothes.

_He's wearing...no, it can't be..._

"I'm not supposed to have gentleman visitors in my room" she blurted stupidly, whispering.

"Then immediately I am assured that you are all right, I promise I shall leave. I would not cause you trouble, not for any price."

"But you...you are, aren't you?" she stammered.

"Causing you trouble? I hope not" he frowned.

"No, not that. You're..." But she couldn't put words around the thought.

"I'm afraid I cannot confirm or deny whatever it is until you tell me what you think I am." He smiled gently. It was tremendously reassuring.

"You're Sir Anthony Strallan, aren't you?"

He removed his officer's cap and bowed slightly.

"At your service."

"And that's a major's uniform...from 1918..." Edith still couldn't bring herself to believe the evidence before her.

"It is. I say, I hope I haven't startled you."

She hadn't looked, really looked, at his face until then, but she lifted her gaze and found his eyes creased with gallant concern. They were cornflower blue and his hair was fair with a little grey at the temples. She remembered from his monument that he'd been forty four when he died, but he didn't look it.

"I was a bit taken aback, but I'm perfectly fine now, thank you."

"Are you sure? I don't usually deliberately appear to anyone. It just causes confusion. But you seemed so distressed, I couldn't leave you as you were. If you are sure you are well again, I shall remove myself, before I am discovered in your room. I apologise if I've caused you any discomfort. Good night, Lady Edith."

He evaporated.

Edith stood staring at where he had been for several long minutes. And then she literally hit her head with her palm.

"God, you _idiot!_ You could've asked him anything, and instead you just scared him off! You blockhead!"

She swore at herself some more, finished marking her papers in a rather perfunctory manner, and then went to bed, holding the handkerchief Sir Anthony had given her.

She didn't sleep well.

* * *

.

The next morning, everything felt odd, as though she'd walked into a different universe. It was inexplicable. Had she really seen a ghost? Or was the stress of this placement getting to her? Should she tell her supervising tutor? She decided that was just asking for trouble. After all, they would be bound by professional ethics to report her. The university couldn't just allow one of their trainee teachers to continue if she were hallucinating! She would be taken out of her placement at Locksley, deferred from her course and her entire life would be put on hold while she was put through a psychological assessment. Her family would be...well, they'd be disappointed, as usual.

And she might never see Sir Anthony again.

She tried very hard to ignore the ache that that last thought caused in her chest, an ache which was much more intense than any other consideration.

Even if she didn't talk about what she had, or hadn't, seen last night to anyone, she still might never see him again. She wished she could just know for sure whether what she had seen had been real. If it hadn't been, she would mildly submit to the worst that the safeguarding guidelines that the Department of Education could throw at her, and to hell with her family and what they thought of it!

But if..._if_...it had been real...God, she so wanted to see him again! He had made her feel so _safe_. No one had ever made her feel like that before, not even friends she'd known for years, and certainly not her parents or Mary. The nearest anyone had come to it was Sybil, but she was married and living in Ireland and Edith got to see her about once every two years, and she missed her so much. Anthony, however, had been with her for a matter of minutes and had somehow wrapped her in a warm, caring security. Was that to do with being a, well, a spirit? Or was it just him, his personality? She knew from what she had read about his life at Locksley and in the army that he cared for those under his protection, and took his responsibilities very seriously. That was, after all, how he had been killed.

"Please, miss, can I go to the loo?"

Susie's tiny voice interrupted her thoughts and she realised that she had drifted from the third form and their studies of the Tudors. She dragged herself back and concentrated on what she was supposed to be doing.

That night, and the night after, she sat in her room marking, the workbooks in front of her swimming in and out of focus. Every nerve, every sense was straining, hoping he would visit her again. And each night she was disappointed.

* * *

.

Edith, half way through a lesson one afternoon, stopped talking about Sir Francis Drake. Susie had gone to the loo again, and this time hadn't returned. Edith realised that that was over twenty minutes ago. She told the class to read the next page of their textbooks and marched along the corridor. The first she knew of it was the sight of blood running in a trickle under the cubicle door. Something in her took over and she acted utterly on instinct to break down the door, while shouting "Susie! Susie, hold on!"

The girl was unconscious, blood oozing from her mouth. Edith's first aid training did the rest for her, and suddenly there were other teachers around her. Someone shouted that an ambulance had been called. Matron knelt by her side taking a pulse and then eased Susie from Edith's arms into her own.

Only then did Edith realise that she was shaking really quite violently. Mrs Dean gave instructions to her secretary to take Miss Crawley to her office and give her a cup of tea. "You've done enough, dear. More than enough. We'll take it from here."

Later on, once she'd stopped shaking, she returned to an empty classroom and was so distracted that she took far too long to clear up after the day's lessons. After six o'clock, Mrs Dean quietly put her head around the door and told Edith that, apparently, the doctors had found that Susie suffered from a previously undiagnosed disorder of the stomach. "But thanks to you, she's all right. And she'll get the care she needs, and she'll carry on being all right. You saved her life today, Edith. Well done you! Her parents have asked me to pass on their deep gratitude."

Yet even at bedtime Edith still felt dislocated from "real" life. She kept pacing in between unsuccessful attempts to go to sleep.

"There's really no need to worry. Susie is fine, thanks to you. But it shakes one up, doesn't it?" His comforting voice soothed her as nothing else could.

"Sir Anthony!"

"Sorry, did I startle you again? It wasn't intended. I'm not..._that_ sort of ghost."

"I never thought you were."

They looked at each other, smiling companionably.

"You were shaken by today though, weren't you?"

"Yes, I was" she whispered back.

"Because of your sister, perhaps?" he said quietly.

"How did you know about…?"

"We are allowed excellent research resources, you know, when we're trying to help someone. It makes it easier for us to do some good." He smiled again. It was a bit lopsided but perfectly charming in Edith's eyes.

"Yes, I suppose it was Sybil and remembering what might have happened that…"

"...that made it so frightening" Anthony finished for her. "She had eclampsia I believe?"

"Yes, and Papa and his doctor friend were so sure that that sort of thing didn't happen to women any more, and Sybil and Tom had wanted a home birth, but…"

"...but it went wrong, and you and your sister and your mother couldn't make the doctor see sense so you went over his head and called an ambulance."

Edith nodded. "They got Sybil to hospital only just in time to save her life and that of little Clodagh. Of course, Papa never took responsibility for what he'd done and blamed Mama and Mary and especially me for 'almost ruining things'."

"I expect he felt shame, my dear, and remorse, and he took it out mostly on you because you were the least likely to hit back."

"Yes" Edith said, losing the battle with the tears.

Anthony gave her another immaculately pressed handkerchief. "You, my dear, have nothing to be sorry for, then or now. Sybil and Clodagh are well and happy. Susie is in good hands and will be fine. Now, you deserve a little treat I feel, something to take your mind off it. Take my hand."

Edith took Sir Anthony's hand expecting that the comfort of a held hand was all that he was offering. And from Sir Anthony that would have been enough. What happened next changed her world.

Everything around her sped away and in an instant she was flying up above Locksley, into the Yorkshire skies, the stars bright and joyful.

Sir Anthony held her hand firmly but not too tightly and smiled encouragingly at her when she glanced over at him, but didn't say anything.

Far below her, cities passed by. There was the south coast of England and the Channel. Things speeded up. She caught brief glimpses of Paris and the Mediterranean, and then they slowed down over vast red sands until they came to a halt above the desert night.

"That was amazing!" Edith cried.

"Thank you, but it wasn't your treat. Am I right in thinking that you've always wanted to see the Pyramids? Well, why don't you turn around, my dear?"

She stared at her companion then looked behind her as he'd suggested. There were the Pyramids of Giza, a sight she had wanted to experience since she was a little girl."

"Oh...oh...they're so big. I never thought they'd be so big!"

"Would you like to see them in greater detail?" Anthony asked, obviously enjoying her delight.

"Oh yes!"

For the next hour or so, Anthony led Edith around the marvels of ancient Egypt, explaining some of the history that Edith didn't know, and pointing out details of interest. But when Edith could no longer stifle a yawn, Anthony took a decision.

"You are tired, my dear. You've had an emotional day, and you need to sleep before tomorrow's teaching. Let me get you back to Locksley."

The return journey took much less time as Anthony knew Edith would not be shocked by their mode of transport.

In her room, he carefully set her down and let go of her hand causing her a pang of regret.

"There, my dear. I hope that was fun."

"More than fun, Sir Anthony. It was a gift of a lifetime. I can't tell you how...how wonderful that was!"

"You are welcome. Goodn…"

"Please visit me again!" Her voice was much louder than she meant, but she didn't care.

Sir Anthony looked a bit embarrassed but rather pleased as he responded "If you want me to, then of course I shall."

"Soon?"

"Tomorrow evening?"

"Thank you."

"You're very welcome, my dear."

He faded slowly away, but this time Edith didn't feel alone.

* * *

.

The next night was even more fun. Edith asked just how far Anthony could travel using his powers.

"When I was first deceased I tried it out. I circumnavigated the world three times in as many minutes."

"Goodness!"

"So you see" he grinned "I can literally offer you the earth."

The ecstatic smile on Edith's face was, to him, greater than any other repayment.

That night they went to Machu Picchu.

The night after that was the Forbidden City in Beijing followed by a flight along the Great Wall of China.

Anthony spent his days thinking about where to take Edith that night: which destination would delight her the most, or hold the greatest historical interest? He tried not to think about what he was doing or whether it was transgressing any of the rules of which he had been informed vaguely when he first began to haunt. This young lady had such _bravery_, pursuing her love of learning despite all the obstacles that her family and the world had put in her way. She deserved the little that he could provide her with, and he enjoyed doing it. He didn't want to consider too closely why he loved doing it so much.

* * *

.

"Where to tonight?" Edith asked excitedly after Anthony had arrived and they had exchanged pleasantries about their day.

"Well, I thought perhaps somewhere a bit special, as a treat because it's a Friday and you've been as busy as a beaver all week" grinned Anthony.

"Everywhere you have taken me has been special, Anthony!"

"Thank you. I have tried to find places that might interest you. But tonight, I thought...Pompeii and Herculaneum? And we could take in a bit of Rome as well?"

Edith squealed.

"Oh _Anthony_! That would be _astounding_!"

With no warning, the door to Edith's bedroom burst open revealing Miss Godwin and Mrs Dean. They looked all around the small room, searching, and not quite believing that they couldn't see what they were looking for.

"Where is he?" demanded Miss Godwin.

"Um…" started Edith, but she was cut off by the headmistress.

"I allowed you to do this, Julia, despite my better judgement. Now, you have to accept that you...we were wrong."

"But there _has_ to be! I heard him. _We_ heard him!" shouted Miss Godwin, still trying to find the man whose voice she'd heard in the room next to hers over several nights.

"You can see with your own eyes there is no man here!" stated Mrs Dean with calm reason.

Because, of course, Anthony had sensed the danger in a nanosecond before the door opened and had disappeared.

At that moment, Edith's phone made a 'ping' noise and began to broadcast a play on a radio station.

"Are you sure you didn't just hear Miss Crawley's radio, Miss Godwin?" asked Mrs Dean.

"NO! Definitely not!" Her eyes were sending daggers into Edith.

"Well, I'm afraid that is the only logical explanation. I apologise for bursting into your room, Miss Crawley, and I'm sure Miss Godwin would like to apologise too" she said pointedly, and after a second Miss Godwin mumbled something unintelligible.

"And perhaps you could keep your radio volume down from now on?"

"Yes, Mrs Dean. I'm very sorry if I have disturbed you, Miss Godwin" said Edith.

"Very well. Let that be an end of this rather unfortunate matter, and let's all get back to bed. Good night, Miss Crawley."

"Good night, Mrs Dean, good night, Miss Godwin, and sorry again" Edith declared with humility.

Anthony did not return that night.

.

Or the night after.

Or the night after that.

The pain crippled her. She managed to teach, but she wasn't the usual, inspired, happy, adorable teacher that her students had come to love.

In bed, awake, the next night, she thought about what it was that hurt so much.

Well, it was the chance in a million to be taken to places so rich in history and to be tutored by someone who knew, _really knew_, what was the truth behind them. That was it, wasn't it?

Yes, but…

Then, it must be being able to meet and talk to a supernatural being.

Yes, but…

She buried her head in her pillow so that her sobs would not be heard by Miss Godwin.

Of course she knew why Anthony's disappearance hurt. She didn't care that he was a spirit, or that he'd been dead over a hundred years. It was his kindness, and his humour, and his personality, and his bravery, and his self-sacrificing character, and his gallantry, and his lop-sided smile, and his beautiful eyes, and how much she adored being with him. How much she adored him. Oh god, she adored him.

Edith was sure that Miss Godwin, in her twisted hatred, had scared him off for good, and for that she could never forgive the older woman.

"I believe you could forgive her, and, indeed, that you will forgive her freely when you know her history."

Anthony's voice, whispering right at her side. Anthony materialising very close to her so they could speak very quietly and still hear each other.

"I'm so glad you've come back." He could hear the tears in her voice, and they almost caused his own to fall and stop him talking.

"Thank you. But I almost got you into a lot of trouble. After all, the first thing you told me was that you were not permitted to have gentlemen callers in your room!"

"Never mind. Because of your quick-thinking we got away with it. I was particularly impressed that you knew how to use a smartphone."

"Well, you have a lot of time to pick up new skills in the afterlife, you know" he smiled.

"Now tell me why I should forgive Miss Godwin."

"Her father was a duke." Edith gasped. "And her mother was a maid in his house. Her father abused his position to take his pleasure with his servant, and when she became pregnant she was sacked."

"No! Well, no wonder she hates the aristocracy so much!"

Anthony was still serious, gently placing his hand on hers. "I'm afraid there's more. Miss Godwin's mother found employment with another stately household, this time an earl. After all, that was her employment record, where she was most likely to find a job. When Miss Godwin was around ten years of age, the earl's son...he, well, he abused her, as he did all the children on the estate. It almost destroyed her. It was all hushed up. He never paid for his crimes."

"Oh God! Oh the poor woman!" Edith sobbed. She could not have imagined how awful Miss Godwin's past had been. Her antagonism towards titled people now felt perfectly justified.

"I would only suggest that you do not give Miss Godwin cause to think that you know her history. I do not believe that she would welcome that at all."

"No, absolutely. I think you're right."

"I also think that perhaps we might meet somewhere else from now on? I will always know if you are alone and if it is safe. Shall we say by my monument?"

So that is what they did. The weeks that followed were the happiest that Edith had ever known. By day, she had the career that she had always wanted. She smiled at Miss Godwin whenever she saw her, trying somehow to communicate some empathy, but she kept her distance as Anthony had advised. The wonder on her young pupils' faces as she told them about the battles of medieval knights or the costumes of eighteenth-century kings and queens was magical to her. Her placement became a constant joy of learning how to teach, and enjoying teaching. By night, she was sure she wore the same look of wonder on her face as Anthony took her to marvellous places and told her so much about them.

They were both taken by surprise when the last week of term began. Anthony knew that Edith had been given this placement for one term only. In five days' time, she would be packing up and returning to university to finish her course, to qualify as a teacher, and to begin her career in earnest.

Where would that leave him? He couldn't try to remain at her side. He would prevent her from living the life she was meant to live...he would stop her truly living. The pain of that realisation was worse than anything he had experienced in the last hundred years. Even if he allowed himself to watch her, how could he bear the inevitable day when she found a man...a _living_ man...to share her life?

The only answer was...the hardest one of all.

* * *

.

It was Wednesday. There was some sort of party on Thursday night to see Edith off. On Friday when she had completed her last day's teaching, she would leave, go back to her family home before returning to her course at university the week after.

This was the last night that he could take Edith somewhere.

She was waiting underneath his monument, as usual, looking fragile, almost ethereal, and yet her strength shone from within. He allowed himself a moment just to look at her, to love her, before materialising beside her.

"Hello." He tried to smile.

"Hello. Are you all right?"

"Oh, I think so, thank you. You must be so tired with everything coming to a conclusion."

"There's an awful lot of reports to write, but I'll get through them. The pupils are so lovely, the reports write themselves." She beamed at him, and his heart broke.

"Where tonight?" he asked.

"Anywhere you like."

"I think you should choose. It's your last night after all."

"And I think _you_ should choose for the same reason. Surprise me!"

He stepped to her and took her hand.

"All right."

He closed his eyes and let the first thing that came into his head take them.

.

They were in the middle of a field, way out in the country, somewhere in Europe. They could see a small town about a mile away, and a flock of sheep sleeping quietly at the other end of the pasture.

There were few lights near them so they could see clouds of stars.

"I'm sorry I don't know where we are" admitted Edith.

"I do" Anthony whispered, almost to himself. He was so still that it frightened her and she was silent, waiting for him.

"I'm sorry, I did not mean to bring you here. That town is Verdun. This...this is where I died."

"Oh Anthony."

"It isn't exactly the happy, magical trip I was hoping to give you. We could push off somewhere else."

But she could see it in his eyes. This was something he had never shared with anyone, and he needed to. She felt a strange humility that he had chosen to share it with her. Ever since she had read the report of his death in the citation she had found in the local archive, she had known what he was about to tell her, but she needed to hear it from his own lips just as fiercely as he needed to tell her.

"No. Please. Let us just enjoy the serenity, the tranquility of this place, the peace which you died to create and preserve for generations of people. Just listen to the stillness for a while."

They both knew that they would probably never have another moment like this again: the two of them together, united in Anthony's deepest, most solemn memory.

A car drove down a faraway lane.

A sheep bleated a single time.

Edith held Anthony's hand.

"I was with the 37th Fusiliers that November. We had been told that morning that the Armistice had been signed, and that it would come into effect at 11 o'clock that morning. We were all so relieved that the war was over, after so long and so much sacrifice. We just expected to sit tight until after 11 o'clock and then wait some more for the top brass to sort everything out and decide how to get us all back home.

"What we didn't expect was that the German brigade across No Man's Land from us were so bitter that they wanted to gain as much territory as possible before hostilities ceased to strengthen the negotiating power of their own generals. Well, perhaps not all the brigade, but certainly their officers. I learned after my death that this was actually quite common up and down the line that morning. The madness that started the slaughter four years earlier was still gripping some men's minds.

"They attacked around eight in the morning with a ferocity we'd never seen before, and that was saying something. I suppose this time they just didn't have anything to lose. Although they took us by surprise we held them off for a couple of hours...until our ammunition began to run out. We realised that if we kept on defending our trench in the normal manner, we would all be wiped out well before 11 o'clock. The only alternative was...was what I, as the senior officer present, chose. I wasn't a member of the regiment, but I outranked their officers, and I ordered the entire section, around a hundred and fifty men, to retreat as far as they could. I manned the machine guns by myself, running up and down the line to give the impression of more men. I fired only when the Germans tried to climb out of their trenches to gain ground and avoided hitting anyone as far as I could. This was the last morning of the war, for god's sake! I didn't want to kill anyone! I kept this going for over half an hour before the lack of ammunition meant that I couldn't keep up the defence.

"One group of Germans outflanked me and took my trench. The officer confronted me, and I surrendered. It did no good. He took his pistol and shot me.

"It was 10:55am on 11th November 1918."

"Anthony…"

He sniffed quietly and then straightened up.

"They awarded me a posthumous DSO, but that mattered to no one. I thank God that I had the foresight to make a will that benefitted the school before I was posted right at the start. Locksley, at least, has done some good."

"Locksley has done an _enormous_ amount of good, Anthony. And you saved _a hundred and fifty_ of your soldiers' lives. Men who went home after the war rather than being slaughtered senselessly as you were. And you knew when you did it, didn't you, that ordering your men further behind the lines meant that you would be killed. I can't imagine that sort of bravery." Her voice choked.

"For over a hundred years, I have tried to forget. Thank you, Edith, for letting me face it with you, and make my peace with it."

He lifted her hand to his lips and placed a long, delicate kiss to her fingers.

"Anthony, I…"

"And now I am going to take you back to Locksley before I disgrace myself with tears."

"All right."

Night time French countryside exchanged seamlessly with Edith's bedroom at the school.

"Get a good night's rest, my dear. Tomorrow will be a very busy day" Anthony stated.

"Anthony?" Edith's voice was urgent.

"Yes?"

"I do hope I will see you again before I leave."

"I will drop in to say goodnight after your party tomorrow, at the very least."

"Thank you."

"Goodnight."

* * *

.

There were cards and gifts from the children whose last lesson was on the Thursday. Some of the part-time staff took the time to find Edith to wish her well. Edith was emotional enough from the day, but the party properly spilled her tears. The school hall had been decorated; there were plates of food brought in by teachers and parents, including a lovely big cake which Edith was persuaded to cut to hearty cheers. It was the best send-off she could have imagined.

Until Miss Godwin walked up to her. Edith's stomach flipped.

"I...I wish you well with your studies and future career."

Then she was gone again, not waiting for Edith's reply. Perhaps all those smiles, all that effort trying to keep out of her way had paid off.

* * *

.

Hours later she lay in bed wondering about Miss Godwin's change of heart, but also recalling all the kindnesses she had been given, waiting to be visited by the one man she thought she might ever trust with her heart.

Amongst all the happiness, a sudden coldness struck her.

He would keep visiting her after she had left Locksley, wouldn't he?

Of course he would. Theirs might be an unconventional friendship, but it was a friendship and it had been growing stronger and stronger as her time at Locksley wore on.

"You're worried about something. Tell me."

His voice soothed and excited her, as ever.

"I was worrying about nothing, I'm sure" she replied, sitting up in bed.

"What about?"

"You."

"Me?"

"Yes...whether you would keep visiting me after tonight. But of course you will."

Anthony was silent.

"Won't you?"

"It might not be in your best interests, my dear. There's such a gap between us, and you...you are so alive! You should live your life to the full and forget the stuffy old ghost you once met."

"But...but I…"

"Please don't distress yourself, my dear. You are an amazing woman and life for you will be full and joyous."

"Why can't I have that _and_ a friendship with a ghost? At the very least you give my history lessons exactness and veracity!"

"That you can provide yourself."

"But I _want_ our friendship, Anthony. Please don't take it away from me."

She saw his tears in the half-light.

"I'm afraid that it would just stifle you. Forgive me. Take the memories of our travels together, our conversations, and, yes, our friendship...take them as my gift to you. Take my best wishes for a long and fulfilling career as the excellent teacher I know you will be. Take my fervent hope that you will have a life as full of adventure and meaning as could be bestowed on you. And...take my love."

He looked up at her with glistening eyes full of longing one last time, and then he was gone.

It was several hours before she had cried herself to sleep.

* * *

.

She was woken two hours later by the fire alarm. Several seconds passed before she could think what the awful sound was. Still upset by Anthony's departure, not quite awake, and not exactly thinking straight, it took her a while before she had pulled on a jumper and shoes and opened her bedroom door.

The stairway and corridors were full of flame-tinged smoke which choked her in seconds. She was just slamming the door when she saw a figure lying on the floor. Putting her jumper sleeve over her mouth she grasped the nightdress of the woman and pulled her into her bedroom too. She coughed on the acrid smoke, as she rolled the woman over to find that it was Miss Godwin. Clearly, she too had been caught by the speed of the fire's progress. Looking around her the only way out was jumping from her window, despite the drop. She could possibly do that herself, but there was no way that she could lift and throw Miss Godwin out.

"Miss Godwin! Miss Godwin! We've got to get out of here! Wake up! Please wake up!" Edith tried slapping her face and shaking her, and just as she was beginning to despair, Miss Godwin awoke in a fit of choking.

"The corridor's on fire!" she said, obviously as disoriented as Edith had been earlier.

"We have to jump...from the window" Edith stood to open it.

It opened only six inches wide. No matter how hard she pushed, the window pane wouldn't budge.

"None of the windows open much. It's for, ha, safety reasons!" Miss Godwin moaned.

"Oh god" cried Edith. What could they do? What could she do?

"Anthony!" she shouted. "Anthony, please help!"

"Oh for god's sake, girl, stop…" began Miss Godwin.

"ANTHONY!"

Miss Godwin couldn't believe her eyes when she saw the ghost of a soldier from the Great War materialise in front of her. She sat frozen in fear as he strode to Edith.

"Good god" he cried, looking around him. "That roof looks like it's fit to collapse." He put his arm around Edith and prepared to get her out of there, but Edith stopped him.

"Miss Godwin too" she said bluntly and firmly.

"Edith! I can't take more than one person at a time! I'll come back for her."

"No. You take Miss Godwin first and come back for me."

"We're running out of time, Edith!" he warned.

"Then you'd better hurry. Save Miss Godwin."

"Why? She's hated you ever since you arrived!"

"Please, just do it, Anthony." He looked at her, and recognised in her eyes the same look he had had on 11th November 1918 and nodded solemnly. Then he quickly moved to Miss Godwin, took her hand and transported them both to the front lawns where the rest of the school were gathering. At that very moment, the roofs of the dormitory building collapsed in a plume of fire. Anthony hurried back as fast as he could. He was still too late.

* * *

.

There were many rumours in the days and weeks that followed. Some people said that they'd seen a man who appeared and disappeared at will, who walked through the fire without being touched by it, carrying Miss Crawley's still form and weeping. No one could explain how her body had been rescued from the inferno and placed safely on the lawns.

No one else had been hurt, not even Miss Godwin who never said a word about the mysterious man, but was always full of praise for Edith and her bravery.

"She insisted that I get out first. She gave her life for mine. She was a very remarkable and courageous woman."

The school buildings were rebuilt over the next year and a half, with an additional annex to the library called, at Miss Godwin's insistence, the Crawley Wing in Edith's honour.

And life returned to normal...

.

...for everyone except Major Sir Anthony Strallan, deceased. He continued to haunt the school always ensuring that he was invisible, doing small good deeds: returning lost items to owners, helping struggling students by leaving books open at a helpful page, that sort of thing. He told himself it was just what he had been doing for the previous hundred years, but deep down he knew he was now doing it to honour the memory of a very talented and selfless woman, the woman he had loved.

Each night, when everyone was asleep, he would visit his monument, the place where they used to meet before their adventures. He would remove his cap, bow his head, and remember all the precious moments he had spent with his beautiful, brave Edith. Would time ease the pain the way it did for living people, he wondered as tears forced themselves from his eyes once again? _My dearest, darling! My beloved! I miss you so!_

"Please don't cry, and please don't be afraid" whispered a voice behind him.

He froze, unable to believe his ears.

"Edith?"

He felt two gentle hands caress his back.

"Anthony, oh Anthony. Did you really think I could leave you?"

He turned slowly. His Edith stood there smiling warmly at him. To her consternation, his distress seemed to increase at the sight of her.

"Oh my darling, this wasn't what I hoped for you!"

"What?"

"Haunting; being stuck here between worlds. You deserve better."

He took her hand and kissed it as he had so many times before.

She raised her hand to his cheek tenderly.

"But I am not stuck between worlds. I was taken into the next world immediately after I died. It's just taken some time for me to get permission to come to you. Would you believe, there's paperwork to be done there just like anywhere else."

"You came back simply to...to see me?" his voice was full of longing and yet disbelief.

"No, my love. I came back because I asked permission to_ fetch_ you."

Stunned, Anthony just stared at her.

"You were allowed to haunt simply so you could find the happiness and joy you were denied in Life."

Edith shyly placed her hands on his chest.

"I very much hope I'm not mistaken in thinking...I mean, it would make me so happy if…"

Anthony didn't wait for her to form the words. He put his arms around her and kissed her with all the love he'd hidden from her when she was alive. Her lips were sweet, her arms clasping his body were heaven, and she felt like home.

"I was so afraid that I'd got it wrong, that I had misinterpreted your meaning, or what your daily visits here were about. You have no idea what a relief it is to know that you…"

"... that I love you" stated Anthony. "My dear, I have loved you ever since I first appeared to you and you recognised me by my uniform."

"I've loved you since you came to me that night to try to comfort me."

He kissed her again, because he had to, and then again just because he could. Then something she had said properly registered with him.

"Did you say you had come to _fetch_ me? I mean...like, really…?"

She nodded.

"Yes. If you want to, we can go to the next world together, whenever you like."

"I would go anywhere, as long as I could go with you, my dearest darling."

"We can always come back and visit, if you ever have a yearning to go travelling around the world once more."

"I think, after all we've been through here on earth, I should like to explore somewhere new. I've always wondered what Venus looks like, for example." He smiled then quickly added "As long as you would be willing to go too, of course."

She snuggled up to him closer. "Of course."

The night was still and clear, but no one saw the two figures, so blissfully happy at last, ascend up into the heavens to begin their joyful afterlife together.


End file.
